The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

I Write Goodbye Letter

was it worth it

not so on: yvf(wthw)

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

i really havent

as in

not their contents

its performative

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

barren land

wait what is that

feel you

i dont understand magnetisation

which magnetises chains of pins

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

or never left

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

hello reader,

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos